CarizzCruzem

Onto the second phobia… frogs!!! No, I’m not over that yet. It’s not just any kind of frog. It’s the kind that jumps and sticks to your skin. I’m having a little panic-attack now.

Oh well! I remember back in high school. It was Christmas and we had “monito, monita”. The bell just rang indicating the end of the day’s recess and resume of class. As I was walking back to my cubicle (my school adopts a home school curriculum so we had our own workstation), I saw a white box lying on the top of my booth. I opened it and what else would I see but two green eyes blinking at me. I was caught rooted to where I was standing. I could feel my head getting bigger and cold sweat coming out of me. There was a couple of seconds silence and then the hideous thing jumped out to my face. And that did it. ALL HELL BROKE LOOSE! Everyone heard an ear-splitting shriek from me and in lightning speed I was in the farthest corner of the room. I cried. I didn’t care that I was 17 and crying like a one-year old in a thunderstorm. I saw the frog leaped and stuck from one cubicle to the next.

I felt betrayed. I mean, those people were living with me for almost a year already and they knew I had this thing with that kind of frog! Who would do such a repulsive prank? I had but one word that I instinctively and repeatedly said while crying to my indignation’s content… “Daddy”. I kept saying “Daddy”.

It is worth noting because that time I had not seen my Dad for some months and would not be able to see for many months after. And he was miles away from me. I was separated from my family when I was in my last year in high school. But that story is for another entry, not now. So yeah, that was the only word I uttered the whole damn crying time. I wanted to be enveloped in my father’s arms and reassured that everything would be alright. But I guess my relationship with my father would never be like that. Now that I’m thinking about it, if my Dad was there, I think he would think me silly, give me a disgusted look and say “Grow up!” If he was there and I ran up to him, he’d probably push me away and tell me to fix the scene I’d made by myself. Hmmm… Nonetheless, that was still the word I uttered… “Dad”.

To this day, I still don’t know who did that prank to me. Hmmm… I am too depressed to write my third and hopefully last phobia. So you’d have to wait until tomorrow.